68. 
’Tis said in after times her spirit free 585
Knew what love was, and felt itself alone—­
But holy Dian could not chaster be
Before she stooped to kiss Endymion,
Than now this lady—­like a sexless bee
Tasting all blossoms, and confined to none, 590
Among those mortal forms, the wizard-maiden
Passed with an eye serene and heart unladen.

69. 
To those she saw most beautiful, she gave
Strange panacea in a crystal bowl:—­
They drank in their deep sleep of that sweet wave, 595
And lived thenceforward as if some control,
Mightier than life, were in them; and the grave
Of such, when death oppressed the weary soul,
Was as a green and overarching bower
Lit by the gems of many a starry flower. 600

70. 
For on the night when they were buried, she
Restored the embalmers’ ruining, and shook
The light out of the funeral lamps, to be
A mimic day within that deathy nook;
And she unwound the woven imagery 605
Of second childhood’s swaddling bands, and took
The coffin, its last cradle, from its niche,
And threw it with contempt into a ditch.

71. 
And there the body lay, age after age. 
Mute, breathing, beating, warm, and undecaying, 610
Like one asleep in a green hermitage,
With gentle smiles about its eyelids playing,
And living in its dreams beyond the rage
Of death or life; while they were still arraying
In liveries ever new, the rapid, blind 615
And fleeting generations of mankind.

72. 
And she would write strange dreams upon the brain
Of those who were less beautiful, and make
All harsh and crooked purposes more vain
Than in the desert is the serpent’s wake 620
Which the sand covers—­all his evil gain
The miser in such dreams would rise and shake
Into a beggar’s lap;—­the lying scribe
Would his own lies betray without a bribe.

73. 
The priests would write an explanation full, 625
Translating hieroglyphics into Greek,
How the God Apis really was a bull,
And nothing more; and bid the herald stick
The same against the temple doors, and pull
The old cant down; they licensed all to speak 630
Whate’er they thought of hawks, and cats, and geese,
By pastoral letters to each diocese.

74. 
The king would dress an ape up in his crown
And robes, and seat him on his glorious seat,
And on the right hand of the sunlike throne 635
Would place a gaudy mock-bird to repeat
The chatterings of the monkey.—­Every one
Of the prone courtiers crawled to kiss the feet
Of their great Emperor, when the morning came,
And kissed—­alas, how many kiss the same! 640